Crimson Bloom: Chapter One
The delicate aroma of jasmine and sandalwood lingered in the air, a sharp contrast to the cold emptiness that weighed heavily on Elara's heart.
At twenty, Elara stood before a worn mirror, her reflection a pale ghost draped in crimson silk. Her storm-gray eyes stared back at her, devoid of warmth, stripped of life.
Fingers trembling, she traced the intricate tattoo winding along her wrist—a crimson blossom blooming amidst a tangle of thorns. A painful reminder of the day her world was reduced to ash.
The fire had devoured her village, leaving nothing behind but ruins and the bitter sting of loss.
Elara's mind echoed with the haunting screams, the searing heat, the choking smoke. She remembered the frantic dash for survival, the desperate search for her family, and the crushing weight of despair when she realized they were gone.
She shut her eyes, the memories slicing through her with unbearable clarity. She had been just a child then, her gift of healing still a fragile whisper.